Saturday, June 9, 2012

Could. Not. Wait.

Dayglo Necros.

Oh, you knew this was going to happen. Shame on you for thinking otherwise.

I had been waiting like a kid on Christmas when Bobby had announced that they were sending out the new Calabrese CD over the weekend. I counted myself lucky that my last name starts with a "C"...assuming they went in alphabetical order. Either way, it came. Today. The postal gods had smiled upon me.

I was exercising at the time. My usual DDR regimen of standard/heavy for 40-60 minutes. (Haha, yeah, whatever. Don't judge.)  I had actually made a goofy squealing sound when I heard the door open and then saw the beautiful little yellow package waiting for me at the foot of the stairs.

Etta James rang through my ears as I nearly slid down the steps in my haste. I held it in my hands, grinning. A small bat was drawn at the bottom. My name and address were written in alternating letters in blood red marker down the center. It was here. It was actually here.

But I didn't open it. I was sweating from jumping around like an idiot. I hadn't showered. I knew what was inside and didn't want to dirty a thing.

So I tucked it away on the couch. I put the stuffed Cthulhu that normally guards our bookcases and door on top of it, lest kitties decide to gnaw on the minute amount of plastic therein.

I'm very nearly done flailing about when Joe comes home. He peels his shirt off and we both comment on how much we were sweating. We hug like strangers. I barely wish him a happy birthday before I tell him what came in the mail today.

I hand him the package. He can't make out the drawing on the front.
He gingerly tears open the self-sealing flap and carefully takes out the insides.

4 postcards. Of them. Signed. Not just signed on their individual cards, but on the group photo as well. It's almost hard to look at them because of my overwhelming fangirl excitement. I mentally get a nosebleed.

A note from Davey.
A high quality photocopy he hand wrote, thanking those who bought the CD for believing in rock. Another signature at the bottom. 2 from Jimmy and Bobby, and now 3 from Davey. Already my $16-something dollars was worth it.

An invoice. "C dad" at the bottom. Papabrese.
An unexpected fourth. Bonus!

Then came the CD itself.

Pure audible sex.

Never mind the art and the neat mini faux movie poster inside. (Are they trying to kill me? Bishonen daisuke...) Never mind that my first impressions of the first single was that it sounded a little crunchy and there was an ass ton of reverb on the vocals. I get it now. I totally get it. The darkness has veiled my eyes and I shall be raptured to the nearest temple.

Aah, so good. You have no idea.
Well, maybe you would if you bought the CD.

Until then.

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